Us Against the World
by secretsofgray
Summary: It started with a mission to rescue Graves. But, as usual, Dru gets more than she bargains for. War, suckers, strange wulfen, and traveling cross counrty to get to the bottom of things. Absolute chaos ensues. DruxGraves Shanksxoc dibsxoc GravesxDru
1. Chapter 1

This is a Strange Angels fic, takes place right after Jealously. DruxGraves Shanksxoc Dibsxoc. Reviews Encouraged.

**Disclaimer: If I owned Strange Angels, I would not be here. **

I felt Shanks quiver next to me, anxious with the Change. Dibs was next to him, shaking with the same excitement.

I could hardly stay still myself.

Next to me, Christophe let out a sound that I could only call a hiss. "Let me go in first. This screams a trap, _kochana._ Are you sure you want to enter?"

_Of course,_ I wanted to answer. But I looked at Shanks and Dibs; they nodded. Christophe sighed. "Very well, Little Bird. Follow my lead."

The air was thick and ominous; the dark purple thunderclouds seemed oddly appropriate. I could feel the electricity in the air. _A storm's coming. And someone's not gonna get out. _

We approached the little cabin with ease; Christophe slipped in. The rest of us waited for his signal. No sound came from the field, from the house. The knot in my stomach that came when Graves left and hasn't gone away since tightened.

We waited. Dibs shifted from foot to foot nervously. Shanks rocked on the balls of his feet. It seemed an eternity before Christophe slipped back out.

"The coast is clear, children," he said, ushering Dibs and Shanks in. He caught my arm before I could so much as step forward. "Dru," he said softly. I looked at him. He didn't say anything else. "What?" I said, and brushed past him.

I mean, geeze. I'm confused enough as it is. There's really no need. Not when I'm this close to finding Graves.

It was one room, made of wood. Kinda dark, with slants of light coming in through the slats between the wood boards and the solitary window to the left.

And there right across from the window, was this odd steel box, maybe six feet high and a foot wide.

And I knew, by some instinct, that Graves was in there.

Shanks was saying something, ducking down to talk through the slat in the box's door. He was also grinning like he just found Christmas. "He's here," he said. "Now we just have to get him out."

My stomach-knot began to loosen. _Not yet. I have to get him out first. _"Is there a lock?"

Dibs shook his head. "The thing's welded shut. They were gonna keep him in here."

Fine. I could play dirty. "Stand back." I said. If I could throw a hex at a helicopter, if I could give a bitchy history teacher a heart attack, a steel box stood no chance. I let the aspect slide over me, and felt the world go surreal, time slowing for everyone but me. I felt all my frustration and anger and fear from the last couple days, gathered it all up inside me. I wanted that box _gone._

I felt the world, the room, as if tiny tendrils of consciousness had felt around and were telling my brain what was going on. Christophe was standing behind us, tense as a wildcat about to pounce; Dibs and Shanks had taken a good two steps back.

And Graves was _in there._

The box didn't stand a chance. It fell apart like it was the twig house and I was the big, bad wolf; there was this horrible, grinding sound, and then I snapped out of it. The box was torn to shreds, lying at our feet.

"Way to break my ears, Dru-girl." Shanks said. I ignored him and ran towards the figure that was slumped against the ground, trying to prop itself up.

It was Goth Boy, alright. And he looked like shit. His face was gray, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair lacked the sheen that _always _came with dye-black hair. He blinked dazedly as I pulled him up by his wrist, but he held onto my hand once he was on his feet.

I didn't let go.

He coughed, and rasped, "You came."

Like he was surprised. I almost rolled my eyes. "Well, duh," And I flung my arms around him. I didn't care that Christophe was here, that Shanks and Dibs were watching. My Goth Boy was okay.

I felt his arms go around me. "This is the part where I should yell at you and say that you shouldn't have come," he whispered. "But Law of Dru and basic moral codes dictate that you should. So thanks."

The knot inside my stomach come completely undone. Goth Boy was okay. In crappy condition, but in one piece. Time to move to the next problem.

"Yea, well, first one's free." And I stepped away, helping him slump to the floor so he could lean against the wall. Shanks and Dibs were looking at their shoes as if the answer to the universe lied there. Christophe was staring at me with that same level look that seemed to mock me.

"Alright, now let's get outta here," Shanks said. "I don't like the feel of this place. We'll get to the 'Adventures of Graves in the steel box," segment later. We know it was Anna," he added.

"Agreed; but they're already coming. I can feel them." Christophe went still, and I had the feeling that he had felt the suckers as soon as he stepped into the house.

"Shit. It's probably Anna-." Graves was interrupted by a huge coughing fit.

Crap. I remembered that sound: Gran had coughed like that, right before she dies in the hospital.

"Pneumonia," Dibs said it like a curse. "He won't be able to run. Either we carry him or we fight." He had gone into medic mode again, all traces of his 'sub' attitude gone.

Graves didn't, for once, look like he was gonna argue.

"I'm going to need something from you, Little Bird," Christophe said. I instinctively recoiled. "How much?"

"Significantly less." His fangs had dimpled his lower lip. "Much less than last time."

Dibs had slung Graves' arm around him, and Graves, half-stood, half-leaned on him. "Don't do it if you don't want to," he said, staring at me.

_Like hell I want to. But if it gets us outta here alive…_

"One," I said to Christophe. "Just one."

He nodded. "It will return, _moj maly ptaszku._ I promise." And he bent down, the blond aspect sliding over him, and sank his fangs into my wrist.

It wasn't as bad as last time. I had braced myself, had gathered the innermost part of me and rolled in into a ball that I held onto for dear life as that horrible ripping sensation seared through me.

And then it was over, and my head hurt like nobody's business.

"Bobby, if one of them gets past me, _protect Dru._" And with that he cocked his gun and slipped out.

It took two seconds for the questions to start flying.

"Who else was with her?"

"What did she do to you?"

"Where did you _go_?"

Graves blinked owlishly, then coughed, a look on his face that probably meant that it hurt to breathe . "Anna and some lackeys. They blitzed me. Couldn't get a face or any other scent but hers. She took my coat." He spoke slowly, and he was beyond tired. Like world-weary. I could see it in his eyes. "Then I woke up in the box." He coughed No questioning, no vamps…. Nothing after they jumped me. And for a run." He began coughing again.

"Okay, easy." Dibs knelt next to him. "Don't talk so much. Dru has your coat in the car and I have some penicillin."

"Petty bitch," Shanks growled, scowling at the floor. "Probably used the Breaking method as some form of sick joke."

My heart felt heavy, and the world felt flat. I slumped next to Graves, and Shanks eventually sat down, too. We sat in silence.

"You think a sucker fight would make more noise," I remarked. Shanks let out a huff. "You'd think."

"Either he cast a fog or…he brought the fight to them," Dibs half-whispered. Graves remained silent.

If I wasn't so disoriented, I probably would've felt them coming before Shanks perked up and stood. "Someone's coming," he said, sniffing the air. Dib's head snapped up. I shakily got to my feet, and Dibs stepped in front of me. _Like I couldn't beat your ass_, I thought.

There was a gun in the holster at my hip, but I didn't want to go waving it around at point-blank range. If Shanks couldn't catch a sucker scent, I could hold off on the gun.

For now.

Pretty soon I could hear it – two steps of footsteps, soft but like their owner's weren't trying to conceal them. A wolf on its own territory.

_Or a hunter who knows his prey is cornered._

"It's not Reynard," I heard Dibs whisper. Well, duh.

I took the gun out, took the safety off. The knot in my stomach came back again.

We stood there – Shanks in front of me, Dibs a footstep ahead and to my right. Graves was crouched by the wall, trying to look attentive. I swallowed.

They footsteps were closer now, almost upon us. The air stood still, thick with anticipation.

Then two girls one tall and dark, the other short and blonde, had pinned me and Shanks against the wall.

"What the hell?" The blonde one snarled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two! *yay* **

**Anyway. I have a question- when saying 'wulf/wufen' I believe that is the singular and 'wulven' is the plural. That's how i wrote it, but if it's wrong, be a dear and correct me? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Strange Angels. I DO, however, own Nyx and Matt. And a really awesome pair of pants. **

**Anyway, off and onward!**

**_Nyx's POV_**

You'd think a freakin' plague had come, what with how quiet the field was. I could hear no birds, no animals. Even the wind had died down.

"Something's coming," Matt said. "I feel it."

I seconded that emotion, whatever it was. "Let's get to the house."

It wasn't a house, not really. A cabin, I guess, with one room and a window. Small. But it worked for us, two wulf-kind who knew the area and needed a place to stay. Who needed a home. It was surrounded by a field that led into a forest, the people living in the nearby town left it alone.

As we approached the house, it was obvious that something was inside it. Quite a few _somethings._ I looked at Matt, and she nodded. We slipped around the back, quietly, and went into the false side. A lot of houses had these – for the underground railroad, or storing grain, or whatever. We used it to hide our stuff when we needed to make a quick getaway or travel lightly.

We crept in in perfect silence; I could smell them now, two wulfen, a _loup-garou_ and a _svetocha._

_Wait. Aren't they supposed to be rare? And why the hell would wulf-kind travel with one of _them?

I glanced at Matt, and then we nodded. A split second later we had slammed open the false door and shot out. I pinned the girl – she was maybe Matt's height, with brunette curly hair and a half-dazed look on her face. I knocked the gun outta her hand and tossed it to Matt. "What the _hell?" _I growled.

Hey, you gotta get your info somehow.

The _svetocha _nearly hissed. "Careful, that thing's loaded," she snapped.

"Good to know," Matt pointed it at the tallest wulf, a dark-haired guy who held up his hands in the universal 'I'm innocent' gesture.

"What the hell are you doing with a _svetocha_ here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"And where's the rest of the _djamphir_?" I added. Not cause I smelled them, but because there's always more, especially when the _svetocha_ were concerned.

"Easy," he swooped his hair behind his ears and stepped in front of a sick-looking half-Asian. "Dru's not one of _them._ We're just passing through."

I rolled my eyes. "Yea. _He's _half-dead-" I motioned to the sickly one. "And there's shredded bits of steel. And a _svetocha_. What's going on?"

"Let me up and I'll freaking _tell _you," Dru, (at least I assumed) said. "And my name's Dru. Geeze." I glanced at Matt; she gave a barely perceivable nod.

I backed off. "Fine. Talk."

"Graves was here. It the box." She said with a glance at the half-Asian one. "So we came to get him."

"And that's not vague." Matt said. "Who did it? Why was it here? How did he _get _here?"

"We could ask you the same thing," the tall one said.

I bared my teeth. "You think I'd do that to another wulf?"

He said nothing. The blond, slight wulf who I hadn't really noticed before said, "Look, he's sick. Give us a minute to get our act together and we'll be out of your hair."

"Nyx," Matt said. "They're probably telling the truth…just not the whole story. They're not prepared for a fight, and he _is _half-dead." She lowered the gun, handed it back to Dru.

"So, this place isn't safe anymore, is it?" I said. "Someone – you're not telling us _who_- but someone decided to try and – what, break him? – here."

"Sure. Let's go with that." Dru said.

"Okay then. We should _all_ probably get outta here then," Matt said. "We'll just –"

But she was cut off by this huge wulfen crashing through the door.

"What the-"

He went straight up to Dru and butted his head against her side. She cast a worried glance at the tall one. "Shanks. We need to get out. _Now."_

Shanks nodded. "Right. C'mon, Graves-boy." He bent down and slung the other boy's arm around his shoulder.

"What?" Matt said to no one in particular.

"He tends to show up right before the suckers do," the blond one whispered, nodding at the newcomer.

"Wonderful." Just my day. "Okay, nice meeting you, but now I think we're gonna split."

We didn't get the chance. Almost a second after I said that, the window shattered and before us was this huge dog, on _fire_.

A Burner.

Dru fired. It was point blank range, so she was able to blow the thing's head off, but enough damage had been done. The house, constructed entirely of wood, was on fire.

The Graves kid began to cough. I instinctively grabbed Matt's arm, and, don't ask me why, but I grabbed Dru too.

We made it out of there in one piece, but there's this marvelous thing about dry, tall grass when it hasn't rained for a month. It make perfect kindling.

"Graves!" Dru screamed. Two seconds later, Shanks came out, Graves half-slung over his shoulder and the blond one- I still hadn't caught his name- right behind him.

"Come _on!_" Matt shouted, tugging her forward. The wulf was still at her side, growls turned into whines. I waited a second, until the others could see where I was, and then ran forward with the rest of them.

The field was smoking wildly now; the Burner must've had a romp around here before breaking into the house. Every direction we turned, it seemed, there was more flames. It was hard to breathe, and pretty soon, all of us were coughing. "Matt! We're gonna have to go through the flames!"

The Shanks kid glanced over at me. "That's insane! Suicide –"

"Do you have a better idea? We're kinda running out of options!" I screamed back. My throat was hoarse, and it was really freakin' _hot_ when you're surrounded by fire. And smoke is really hard on the eyes.

"Here!" Matt called. There was this tiny opening, where the fire hadn't yet spread, and I didn't want to bet on how long it would stay that way.

We barreled through it and didn't stop running until we were on the other side of the dirt road, safely in the forest.

As we all stood there, coughing, I looked back. The inferno roared, yellow and orange at the tips, darker red and indigo at the bottom, rising higher and higher as if it wanted to touch the sky.

Burning the place that I called home.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back, with Chapter Three. Yay!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I love feedback. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Strange Angels. I DO own Matt and Nyx. And this awesome ring my friend got for me. But anyway...**

**...**

**Matt's POV**

Miraculously, we were relatively unharmed.

Coughing and doubled over, but not burnt to a crisp. Graves was slumped against a tree trunk, and Dru was next to him.

"A Burner? A frickin Burner?" Nyx rounded on them. "What the holy frickin _hell_?"

I crossed my arms and stood behind her. Hey, it can't hurt to intimidate, and Nyx wasn't very…intimidating. I mean being scarcely over five feet and _blonde_ to boot really wasn't helping her case.

"It's a long story," Dru said evasively.

I snorted. "Well we have time."

Dru looked at Shanks; he glanced at Dibs, who shrugged and turned back to Dru. She nudged Graves. He coughed.

"He needs treatment." Dibs said, "And I dropped my med kit." Huh. So blondie was a medic. I tucked that away for future use.

"Where's the SUV?" Dru asked. The still-Changed wulf dropped onto his belly next to her.

Then I noticed the silver streak on his head.

"And a Broken?" Nyx and I chorused.

"Where we left it…I think. And yea, a Broken." Shanks met Nyx's eyes, then mine. We glared back.

"You know what? We'll take you to the town; there's bound to be one of those ten-dollar clinics there. On the way, you tell us how two wulfen, a _loup-garou_, a Broken, and a _svetocha_ ended up tracking in a Burner onto our turf." I inclined my chin. This would be the only way we'd get answers; sure, we could just leave now but…I was curious. Ever since Nyx and I left our Pack, we've been behind on the goings-on. This seemed like a good chance to get caught up.

She arched her eyebrow at me but said nothing.

"Done." Dru said, standing. Shanks helped Graves up. Man, that smoke _really _had done it to him. "We'll take the SUV then –"

"No," Nyx shook her head. "The city is close, and an SUV filled with teenagers who look like they've been killing zombies would attract the wrong kind of attention. Low profile entrance, then a quick exit."

"You sound like you've done this before," Shanks mused sardonically.

"We have," I deadpanned.

"Point." Dru said. "Okay head to the city, get him help, get out of there. Sounds like a plan."

"Hold up," Graved croaked. "Don't I get a say in what happens?"

"Nope," Dru quipped. "Not when you have to be carried you don't."

Hmm. Maybe the _svetocha _had promise.

"Can I at least –" he cough – "Get my coat?"

The _svetocha _rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Dru's POV**

We got Graves his coat and were now following the two wulfs…somewhere. Into the town, I guessed. I really hated this, the whole 'blindly-following-someone-else' thing, but this was the only lifeline we had. And even though Graves was pretty much down for the count, we still outnumbered them.

The blonde one – Nyx – glanced behind her, at us, quickly before turning back around. "Just another half mile and we'll be there."

I nodded even though she couldn't see me. I didn't care about that at the moment, though. Graves was in a bad way, slumped between Shanks and Dibs. He'd cough, but it was growing weaker.

And it wasn't too long until sunset.

"So," Matt, the taller, darker one said, "How did such a motley crew end up traveling together?" She threw the words over her shoulder nonchalantly, but I could sense the thing that every wulfen has, that bark-snap-roar that lies under every word. _She's probably a dom._

"Where do we begin?" I said. _Ha. Dad turned zombie by the guy who is searching for me whose mother knew said guy's son who gives me the chills. Oh and not to mention another _svetocha _is on the loose and had my mother killed. And then we have the whole –dragged-into-this-life-but-refuses-to-leave Graves over here, and two wulfen who think they owe me something. _

But _that _would just open up a huge can of worms, wouldn't it?

"You heard of the Red Queen?" Shanks asked bluntly.

Nyx snorted. "That's just a myth used to scare cubs into actually sleeping in their rooms. Everyone knows that the last _svetocha_ was killed – except you," she added the last part for my benefit.

_The last _svetocha _killed was my _mother! I wanted to scream. But I grit my teeth and concentrated on not tripping over one of these huge roots that seemed to pop up all over the place.

I felt Graves' eyes on me, and when I turned, he was giving me a Look. I shrugged.

"She's not a myth," I said darkly. "And she wants to kill me."

The two of them stopped and turned around to face us in eerie unison –was that how they did _everything?_ Jeez. It's like a frickin mirror or something.

"Sounds interesting," Matt said slowly. "But you left some stuff out."

Nyx snorted. "A good chunk of it. Am I right?"

Shanks chuckled. "You catch on quick, huh? Well, basically these two –" he jerked his thumb toward me and Graves, "Got shipped to a reform Schola, which was attacked. We then escaped and went to the Prima; the Red Queen essentially kidnapped Graves here and tried to break him –"

"Why?" Nyx interrupted.

"Cause she's a jealous bitch with a richgirl complex." I found myself saying. _Wow, Dru. Just as long as you don't feel too strongly._

"Yea," Shanks continued, "And then well…we found him."

"Okay, so you've got _most _of the bases covered," Matt said. "Except the Broken part and _how _you got to the reform Schola."

I really hated it when people notice details like that. Makes it hard to skirt around crap you don't wanna relive, you know?

"We can get to that," Dibs said, all medic-boy official, "After we get him treated. He just passed out on us, and that's never a good thing."

Nyx nodded and Matt turned. "Right. Do you have a story?" Nyx asked, falling back next to me.

_Uhm, no._ "I can think of something."

She nodded. "I'll leave it to you then."

We continued on in silence. _Dammit. An alibi. One that works. Well we can't be siblings, I mean Graves is freakin' Asian. But Dibs and Nyx look alike…maybe. Or we could do the whole half-siblings/adoption thing. Or –_

Sometimes I really hate having an overactive imagination. It comes in handy but makes these things just so much more difficult than they have to be.

God. I was just happy to have Goth Boy _back. _I glanced over at Graves. He was out cold, supported between Shanks and Dibs. At my side, Ash whined and butted his head against my side.

_Right, Dru. Story._

_Stick as close to the truth when lying, Dru. _Dad's voice, in my head again. _It makes your story more believable._

_Yea, believable from a girl who hears voices of dead people in her head._

I sighed. Our guides had stopped, right as the forest began to thin.

"We're about to enter town," Nyx said. "So hide your weapons. This place has good food, and I'd like to be able to come back here to eat, okay?"

_Amen,_ I added mentally as I holstered my gun at my hip and zippered my coat. Not the best, but it'd work for now.

"How much cash do we have?" Matt asked.

We turned out our pockets. Between my emergency roll of cash, the depths of Graves's coat pockets, Shanks and Dibs, we had close to five hundred dollars.

"Enough for now," Nyx muttered. "We might need to hit the ring again."

"In a while. I'm still sore from last time," Matt said back, then to us, "Okay. Nyx is gonna go with Dibs and Shanks and their gonna get two rooms at this bed and breakfast in town. I'll take Dru and Graves to the clinic, the we'll meet back there. We can eat and you guys can clean and tell us the rest of your story. We can go from there."

_Split us up? Oh hell no._ "Splitting us up?" I said. I could tell that Dibs and Shanks weren't too pleased, and I knew that Graves would never go for it, if her were conscious.

Nyx shrugged. "It's not the best, but three teenagers aren't nearly as bad as six. And Trenchcoat over there is gonna be really tired for the next couple days. Unless," she added, "You need another guy for your alibi?"

I didn't. But I also didn't want to split up.

I hate logic.

"Okay, fine," I said. "It works. Me and Matt are sisters, Graves is our friend, he went missing the night of a party and we found him in the woods where the keg was two days later."

Nyx grinned. "Impressive. If you're not back at the B&B by sundown, we'll come get you."

"What about Ash?" Matt asked.

"What about him?" the Broken had trotted by my side and had kept quiet the entire time. He now sat by my feet, watching the scene pan out with bright orange eyes.

Matt shrugged. "He's obviously not a dog…and even if we _could_ make him look like a dog, the B&B doesn't allow pets."

"We could sneak him in later tonight," Dibs suggested. Matt shrugged. "Maybe. But what about in the meantime?"

I glanced down at Ash. _Maybe it'd work…hell, it's worth a shot. _"Stay," I said to him. "Stay here. I'll be back tonight, okay? Follow my scent," I added, "If I'm not here by tomorrow at noon."

I had no idea in all of the nine hells if he understood. But Ash settled his head down on his paws and gave me a _Well, go do what you need to do,_ Look, one that cats usually give you.

I shifted the straps on my bag, looked up and nodded at Shanks and Dibs. "Ready?"

Dibs shrugged and Shanks grinned, flashing his perfect white teeth. "I was born ready."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

**review?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so here I am! Back! Not-dead! Decidedly alive! **

**Anyways. So I toyed around with the POV. Dru is in first, but the rest is in third. Grr, third seems awkward, but first - I just don't know! Rawr! Let me know which you think is better, pretty please.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Strange Angels. FANfiction for a reason.**

**xxxxxxx**

**Dru's POV**

Thin as Goth Boy was, he was freaking heavy. And a dead weight, too. Matt and I were taking him down to the clinic, and on our way there, we were on the receiving end of quite a few weirded-out stares.

The town was very quaint, very vintage – with the cobblestone streets and cottage-like stores. Like someplace out of a fairytale, or something. We were on what I guessed was the main road, and almost at the clinic if the sign was anything to go by, but it did nothing to lessen the ball of lead in my stomach.

_I _felt sick, and here Graves was passed out between the two of us. Hell, everything had been moving _so fast – _all I wanted to do was take a hot shower, curl up somewhere, and fall asleep for the week.

_But where's Christophe? And the rest of the suckers? And who the hell sent the Burner? _

Matt jerked me out of my thoughts. "When we get to the clinic," she said, "Let me do the talking. Some of the people there are a little too nosy – good people, but nosy."

I nodded, and she went back to being quiet. But when someone has a question that's about three seconds away from escaping their mouth, and you know it, and they know it, no one stays quiet for long.

"So, this Anna character," she said, shifting the weight of Graves' arm, "She's not a myth. What does she _do_?"

"Manipulate anything and everything with a Y chromosome," I said without thinking.

Matt grinned. "Ah. I know the type. But seriously, why isn't she out there fighting Sergei and the suckers if she's older and all? I mean, don't you half-vamps have to, ah, hit _djamphir _puberty or something?"

I was glad that at that moment, Graves decide to stir, because frankly, I didn't have an answer.

Xxxxxxxxx

**Nyx's POV **

"Okay," Nyx said, tugging on a hoodie and swinging the bag over my shoulder, "People around her ask questions, so if we're going to feed them crap, let's at least feed them the same crap." She made sure that both boys were with her as she walked into the town. Shanks met the people's stares, but Dibs kept his head down.

She narrowed her eyes. She had never dealt with a sub before – seen them, yea, but it was different.

"So, let's go with the three of us bein' siblings," Shanks said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Should work. You two look enough alike."

Nyx nodded, but said, "The two of you will have to do the talking."

"Why?" Shanks said, the edges of his voice containing a sneer. "Girl can't lie?"

"No," Nyx hissed, whirling around to face him. He arched a sardonic eyebrow down at her, though it was lost by the hair that hung down into his eyes. Inwardly cursing that she had to look up to see him, she said, "Moron, do I _look_ like I'd be the oldest? Or even the one to do the talking? Idiot."

Shanks' face contorted into a snarl, and Nyx was preparing to counter a punch when Dibs said, "Shanks, she has a point – c'mon," and he tugged the other boy back, and Nyx brushed past them. _Idiots…grr…_

She inhaled sharply and led them to the inn. It was homely, with a bar to one side and some tables around. She went up to the front desk, Dibs and Shanks trailing in her wake.

The lady there paused a second to take them in, eyes resting on Shanks last. "How can I help you?" she asked, none too nicely. She was late middle-aged, with dye-blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun.

Behind her, Dibs ducked his head and Shanks inhaled. "How much are rooms for the night?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. It was because of the underlying thing – the Other – that was in them. Her most primal senses of self-preservation were warning her that these kids were Bad News, but she couldn't place why. It wasn't their appearance, even if they did look – and _smell _– like they had just blown something up. She tried to convince herself that it was this, but something else, something subconscious, knew what it was – these kids were different, reeking of things best left unsaid.

And the tall boy's hair was _so long. _

Instead, she said, "You need parental supervision – we can't rent rooms to anyone under eighteen –"

"I'm nineteen," Shanks lied, reaching into his pocket as if to get an ID that Nyx wasn't sure he had. "So that shouldn't be a problem – and don't worry, she's my sister," he said, a little bit of a bark creeping into his voice. "How much?"

Now, the woman was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Word traveled fast in the town, and she couldn't go refusing them a night, couldn't she? Besides, a maternal part of her chided, if they have the money and just want to stay for the night, then they'd be in better condition here than, say, a cheap motel. That little girl wouldn't stand a chance, and that other boy – the blond one who couldn't be much older than her – looked scared and _oh fine, just give them the room! _

But still, she was reluctant – self-preservation does that to you.

So, she pursed her lips and gave them the price. "If I hear," she said, "One _word _of trouble coming from you, then I _will not _hesitate to call the cops. Understood?"

Shanks nodded, and she detected a hint of sarcasm in is, "Yes, ma'am," as she handed him the key.

The sense of trepidation she felt as she watched them follow the maid upstairs to the rooms tightened in her stomach, but she was a mortal without the Touch so what could she know? She pushed it aside and welcomed the next customer with a smile and kind words.

Xxxxxxxxx

Nyx sighed and went to the one room, while Dibs and Shanks went to the other. She mumbled something about, "Taking a shower," and "Want some goddamn answers," and then surveyed the room.

A bed, a couch, a door that led to the bathroom, and a small TV. A nightstand that she'd bet had a Bible in it and another dresser. She yawned and threw her and Matt's bags onto the bed and then took a shower.

The hot water felt good on her sore muscles, and it was nice to wash her hair. Hell, the entire thing of _getting clean _was nice. The fire and smoke and trudging through the woods had done a number on her, and taking showers was her way of winding down.

The bags that she and Matt carried usually had the necessities – clothes, underwear, water –they were short on food right now, for whatever reason – and cash. Some of their stuff they kept in that house and houses like that, all abandoned and perfect for two wandering wulfen. Her old clothes would need to be washed – the shirt was singed, that could be tossed – but the pants were okay.

She changed into her basic black ensemble – cargo pants, boots, t shirt and jacket with too many pockets to count – and did a little more snooping around the room, but only discovered along with a bible, the nightstand drawer held a pack of playing cards.

After towel drying her hair and throwing it up into a ponytail, she headed over to the boys' room.

It was time she got some answers, dammit.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Dibs and Shanks plopped their stuff down on the two beds. Dibs sighed, and said, "You okay?"

"Fine," Shanks mumbled, stretching out on the one bed and lacing his hands behind his head. "You?"

"Fine," Dibs said, yawning. "Wonder what's gonna happen, though."

Shanks cracked open an eye and said, "Yea. And now with them and all. I'd never thought I'd say this, but it might be better, the sooner we get back to the _Schola._"

Dibs cocked his head. "You want to go back?"

Shanks shrugged against the mattress. "I'm just sayin'. We got Graves back, Dru's okay, all we need is Reynard and we're good. Don't get me wrong, it's still prison camp, but still…it was a place."

"I guess," Dibs muttered. "But still. We could always…not go back, you know?"

The idea had occurred to Shanks too many times to count, but still, he found himself saying, "We could, but how safe would that be? For Dru especially. The system's fucked up, yea, but…argh, go take a shower, Dibby. We'll figure it out."

Shanks waited until Dibs closed the door and he heard the water begin to run before he shut his eyes again.

xxxxxxxx

Shanks had just walked out of the bathroom, changed and showered and refreshed, to find Dibs and Nyx sitting across from each other on the beds, talking.

"And, well," Dibs was saying, "That's how it worked. And when the Red Queen doesn't get her way…well –"

"Shit happens, Dibby," Shanks said, towel-drying his hair. "Call it what it is." He narrowed his eyes at the girl and said, "And what are you doing here?"

"Getting some answers," she quipped, "And jeez. Sounds like an interesting couple of months." She knew that her sarcasm was most likely to go unappreciated, but whatever. Dibs had apologized for Shanks, saying stuff about 'dom' and 'defensive' and 'somewhat antisocial.'

"Putting it mildly," Dibs said, fiddling with his sleeves. "Like Shanks said, shit happens."

"Mhm," she said, "But I have one question: What's up with the whole tithe and alliance thing, and – okay I lied, two questions – why did the Graves kid run-slash-get chosen for kidnappage?"

"'Kidnappage',"Shanks said, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow.

Nyx shrugged, but Dibs cut in, probably, Shanks mused, to keep the two doms away from each other's throats, "It's…complicated. The whole _djamphir-_wulfen relationship-treaty –"

"It's _bullshit,_" Shanks said vehemently. Before he could continue, Dibs butt in, "Yea. A certain number of wulfen males are sent to the _Schola_ to be trained – "

"'Cause we're just the dumb muscle, they supply the _logistics,_" Shanks interrupted.

"Do I sense some resentment?" Nyx asked sarcastically. "Okay, I get it, half-suckers are pretentious, stuck-up pricks to need to have the stick up their anus surgically removed. Jocks with god-complexes. I get it," she said. "But it's the only way to keep the two species actually alive – I know that."

Dibs nodded. "Exactly. A shitty system, but a system. And ah, Graves got stolen by Anna 'cause, ah – that's _really complicated._"

But Nyx had already put two and two together. "She used him to get to her, huh?"

"Basically," Shanks said, because he felt the need that someone had to voice it. "He saw Dru all beat up, flipped shit, and BAM. Anna got to him." He hung the towel up and shook his hair out. It hung limply in his face, longer over his left eye. He refrained from mentioning Reynard, deciding to leave that for Dru, later.

Instead, he turned to the girl. "What do we do now, huh?" he asked with a touch of mockery. He was damned if some little blonde chick was gonna come in and start ordering things around, dom or no dom. "You gonna tell us _your _story?"

He half expected her to get all bristly or something, but instead she shrugged. "I was attacked by – Ash, actually – when I was five. Matt's family took me in. We – Matt and I – didn't get along with the guy in charge, so we left. Simple, really." She shrugged and grinned, and reached into the nightstand. Next to the King James Version of the Bible lay a pack of standard playing cards. "Now who knows how to play Rummy?"

**As always, let me know your thoughts.**


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